


with a taste of your lips

by sarahyyy



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Christmas fic, M/M, Possessive Enjolras, courfeyrac does not deserve this kind of treatment really, with kissing under the mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 18:29:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahyyy/pseuds/sarahyyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire stares at him, lips parted slightly in awe, and Enjolras has a moment of panic at the pang of want that goes through him, before it fizzles out into something more manageable and settles somewhere in his chest. </p><p>“Mistletoe,” he tells the still gaping Grantaire, lips curved in a smirk, and leaves to rejoin their friends.</p><p>(Or, five times Enjolras and Grantaire kissed under the mistletoe.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	with a taste of your lips

The first time it happens, Enjolras is caught off-guard. 

He’s never been one for Christmas traditions (or any traditions, really), and the idea of kissing someone under the mistletoe doesn’t appeal to him the way it does to Courfeyrac. But when Courfeyrac details out his plan to catch Combeferre under the mistletoe during the Christmas party they’re co-hosting by simply hanging mistletoe everywhere in their shared apartment, Enjolras cannot find it in himself to say no.

So when it happens, when Jehan yells _“Enjolras and Grantaire under the mistletoe!”_ in the middle of one of his Not Arguments with Grantaire, he doesn’t really pay much heed to it and continues expounding on the importance of bodily autonomy, trying to get Grantaire to understand. Except one moment he’s speaking, and the next he cannot because Grantaire’s lips, chapped but soft, are on his, and Grantaire’s tongue is running across his bottom lip, and the heat that coils in his stomach is ridiculous.

Enjolras wants to pull away. Enjolras wants to press closer. Enjolras doesn’t really know what he wants but the kiss is over before he knows how to react to it. 

Grantaire goes back to tearing at his arguments, an amused smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. 

\--

Enjolras suspects that Courfeyrac has spiked the eggnog. It’s the only thing that makes sense, really, because he’s barely had two glasses of eggnog, and that isn’t enough to make him drunk enough to daydream about Grantaire’s lips on his.

It’s stupid. 

It’s stupid because he cannot stop thinking about the soft press of Grantaire’s lips, or the wet slide of Grantaire’s tongue, or the warm, warm heat of Grantaire’s mouth. It’s stupid because the kiss barely lasted five seconds, but is literally all Enjolras can think about. It’s stupid because _he wants to do it again_.

So obviously, when Grantaire goes into the kitchen to refill his drink, the only logical thing for Enjolras to do is to stand by the doorway leading to the kitchen and wait for Grantaire to come out, not-so-accidentally bump into him at the doorway, and catch him under the mistletoe that hangs there. It’s only logical, and completely not ridiculous or stupid.

Grantaire obviously thinks it’s not stupid, judging by the pleased hum he lets out, eyes wide with surprise, mouth eager and pliant, when Enjolras presses him against the wall and licks into his mouth the moment he appears at the doorway.

Grantaire’s mouth is hot against his and his fingers are clamped tightly in Enjolras’ shirt, and he tastes like the tequila shots he’d been doing with Bahorel, and Enjolras has never been so turned on in his life just from kissing someone but he is fast running out of air in his lungs and has to drag his mouth away from Grantaire’s. 

Grantaire stares at him with wide eyes, slick red lips parted slightly in awe, and Enjolras has a moment of panic at the pang of want that goes through him, before it fizzles out into something more manageable and settles somewhere in his chest. 

“Mistletoe,” he tells the still gaping Grantaire, lips curved in a smirk, and leaves to rejoin their friends.

\--

The third time happens because of Eponine, and Enjolras spares a moment to briefly consider the idea of sending her a basket of edible arrangements for her contributions to Mission: Kiss R. 

For the past 15 minutes, Eponine has been dangling mistletoe over everyone’s heads and making them kiss. For most of his part, Enjolras swiftly ignores the shenanigans going on between his friends in favour of coming up with a plan that would ensure Grantaire’s lips on his again. Grantaire and Enjolras are sharing a couch, although Grantaire’s attentions are focused on Feuilly, the two men talking animatedly about Feuilly’s new tattoo. 

He laughs along with everyone else when Joly screeches in horror when Bahorel presses his lips to Joly’s the wettest, most obnoxious kiss which is how he doesn’t notice Eponine making her way to him and Grantaire.

When he notices her, she has almost reached the couch him and Grantaire are sharing and Enjolras lets his grin show when she ends up holding mistletoe above Grantaire’s head. Eponine smirks and orders Enjolras to kiss Grantaire, and he tries his hardest not to grab at Grantaire and crawl onto his lap in his eagerness.

(He succeeds, but only barely.)

\--

The fourth time happens ten minutes after the third time and Enjolras grins before he presses his lips to Grantaire’s because he is almost certain that Grantaire was waiting under the mistletoe for him.

This kiss isn’t messy and frantic like the others. It is slow and methodical, like Grantaire is trying to take his time to learn the contours of his mouth. The thought makes Enjolras shiver and tangle his fingers into Grantaire’s hair and pull him even closer.

\--

The fifth time is a mess and Enjolras is never going to live it down because Courfeyrac is never going to let him forget it for as long as he lives. 

He is making his way to Grantaire, who is standing by the window, head thrown back in laughter at something Cosette has just told him. Judging by the furious blush on Marius’ cheeks, and the way he’s ducking his head in slight embarrassment, Cosette is probably telling Grantaire about Marius meeting her father for dinner just yesterday. 

He is still at least twelve steps away from Grantaire when he notices Courfeyrac making a beeline for Grantaire, devious gleam in his eyes and all, and he just _knows_ what Courfeyrac is going to do. 

Courfeyrac is going to steal Enjolras’ kiss.

The thought has barely registered in his brain before he’s running, leaping across the coffee table in his way, and tackling Courfeyrac onto the floor. The loud crash effectively ends all the conversations going on in the room, but Enjolras doesn’t care, doesn’t have time to care. He scrambles back to his feet, and stalks towards Grantaire. 

Grantaire is grinning at him, grinning so wide his cheeks must hurt, and Enjolras feels his scowl ebb away because how the hell is he supposed to stay mad at anyone when Grantaire is smiling at him like Enjolras is the best thing in the world? 

He comes to a stop in front of Grantaire and brings a hand up to cup Grantaire’s cheek, running his thumb softly across his lips. “Mine.”

Enjolras didn’t think it was possible, but Grantaire’s grin grows. 

“Yours,” Grantaire agrees, and Enjolras just has to crash their lips together, even if it’s just to stop the ridiculous laughter from bubbling out of his mouth. 

In the background, Courfeyrac cries, “ _He tackled me to the floor!_ ”


End file.
